Hell Is For Children
by Life's scar
Summary: They had come knocking on the door, dressed in their tight black suits as if they were leading him to a funeral and the police men stood right behind them as Dad screamed that they had no reason to take his boys from him.


**Title**: Hell is for Children

**Rating:** Pg-13

**Words:** 2185

**Warnings**: Mentions of abuse.

**Spoilers:** Pre-Series

**Disclaimer: **They belong to their representative owners.

**Summary:** They had come knocking on the door, dressed in their tight black suits as if they were leading him to a funeral and the police men stood right behind them as Dad screamed that they had no reason to take his boys from him

The first time that they had taken Dean and Sam from their father Dean was too young to understand what was going on. He didn't understand why they thought they were unsafe from the only man who could possibly keep them safe and away from harm. So what if he carried a knife with him to school; he hadn't realized that telling the principle that it would keep the bad things away was the wrong answer. He was just a little kid; he didn't know why they were stationary long enough for him to attend first grade it probably was when John was training himself after a few dangerous mishaps but who knew.

They had come knocking on the door, dressed in their tight black suits as if they were leading him to a funeral and the police men stood right behind them as Dad screamed that they had no reason to take his boys from him. Sam was crying so hard as the woman tried to pick him up, whispering false promises of never being hurt again and all the poor little boy could scream was that he wasn't hurt right now.

As they were drug out Dean kept his arms tightly wrapped around Sam, too close to growling at the social worker for anyone's comfort if she tried to take Sam from him once more, they were followed by the sounds of their father yelling angrily and police whispering loud warnings of arrest if he didn't calm down. How could they expect a man to calm down when his family was being pulled apart by meddling people who had no idea of the world around them, who only knew what their tunnel vision allowed them to see.

And when they got to the department they were placed in a small, colorful room with more toys than Dean could ever remember seeing in his life. Except they were of no use to him. If something had crawled out of the shadows that haunted the corners those plastic toys would do nothing to help him protect Sam. So, he sat there and watched Sam play and listened to Sam ask in his broken, three year old speech when Daddy was going to come pick them up because Daddy would always pick him up and play with him and these people wouldn't. He watched as Sammy pushed around a little toy car, asking if Daddy could drive that fast.

He watched until the same woman came in, kneeling right in front of him, blocking his view of his little brother and asked why he wasn't playing with the toys. The shock on her face was priceless to his young mind when he answered that he needed to protect Sammy because Daddy wasn't here yet. When she told him that Daddy wasn't coming just yet, that he wasn't protecting either of them his small fist reared back and he punched her. Not much damaged done by his weak little arms but she took it that his Daddy had taught him that and then he cried because Daddy hadn't taught him that; the older kid on the bus had done the same thing on various times. Sammy had instantly crawled over, finding that easier than bothering to get to his feet, and wrapped his arms around Dean and kissed his forehead like Daddy use to do to him and glared at the woman, screeching loudly in his small voice that she was mean and he wanted Daddy now because he'd make Dean feel better.

She had only smiled sadly and left without another word just a mere pat to each one of their heads.

Dean calmed down quickly but only for the mere fact that Sam was starting to cry because he couldn't stop his brother's tears like Dean had done for him so many times before and Dean couldn't bare to be the reason that Sam started to cry; to sensitive to a world that was anything but. So he wrapped his arms around his baby brother and whispered thanks for Sammy being there for him, making the small boy in his arms smile and then said he'd never allow them to be separated.

How he wished he could have kept that promise.

The next time the woman came in she was followed by the man from earlier and her face looked pale and tired but Dean didn't care about her, the first question out of his mouth was if Daddy was here yet. She shook her head and grabbed Sammy up from the floor, his hand still tightly wrapped around the small car giving her a angry look, asking her to put him back down until Daddy was here but she shook her head and started walking out of the room and that's when Dean started screaming, begging really but his own voice was loud in his memories, moving to chase after his little brother only to have strong arms wrap around him as the man stopped his pursuit. The man's voice was soft and comforting but the words that left those thin lips were anything but, telling him that it was only for tonight and tomorrow they'd be put in the same home.

He didn't want a different home. He wanted _his _with his father. He didn't want Sammy to be away from him if they weren't going to be with their father. How was he suppose to protect him if they weren't together? Were they going to send Sammy to a place where they could protect him from the dark? Would they understand?

When he told the man that the man just chuckled softly and then told him there was no need to protect him anymore, that they were both safe and he laughed in the man's face. Safe? When no one else knew these things existed? Safe? They were in more danger than before.

He had seen the evil in the world before; seen the dark underbelly of what people assumed to be their perfect lives. But that night? That night he saw the evil of humans. His father had explained to him in simple words that some people were bad, like that ghost who had shoved him down the stairs, and some people are good, like the one ghost of a little boy who had helped Dean find Sammy when he had wondered off into a filed where the little had died. Daddy made the bad ones go away and the good ones, that the bad ones had hurt, rest peacefully. He had never explained to him that some people were like those monsters that Dean or Sam were not allowed to see that would send Daddy home covered in blood and turned him a strange dark, purple color in certain spots.

Never once had he said people could be that bad but he found out that night how hard human fist were and through the pain all he could do was pray that Sammy wasn't going through the same thing.

That man had promised that he would be safe; that he'd never be hurt again but that was a lie spoken in a false voice. And if that was a lie could he believe that Sammy was safe wrapped tightly in a warm blanket?

The next day the man was back, in the same black suit as before but with an ugly yellow tie that reminded Dean of puke. HE couldn't understand why Dean was hiding in the bathroom; didn't know that he had spent the night there. He tired to bribe him with candy and then ice cream but the only sound he received was that of Dean's tears. He finally told Dean that he was going to be able to see dad and then the door slammed open and he was greeted to the sight of the man on his knees, not having expected the door to open that quickly and the mother holding the little baby and her eyes the same purple color that almost always decorated his father's skin.

The man in front of him gasped and instantly pulled Dean closer to him only causing him to tense up but he was apologizing to Dean as the woman choked on her sobs. The man whispered something about the hospital and the only thing he could do was try to hit the man the same way he had been hit last night, screaming that he had been told he was going to see his daddy and that he only wanted his daddy because he was the only one who could make him feel better.

Somehow he had been put in the car; somewhere along the line his seatbelt had been put on and a chocolate bar in his hand but did nothing to calm him. The tears and choked sobs didn't subside until he recognized the building where he had been taken yesterday with Sammy and in a soft voice he asked if his daddy was here and the man nodded, taking Dean's hand and leading him back into the dull looking building. His eyes darted around every corner looking for his father and Sammy. With each tiny step he took his little heart broke because there was no sign of them and he didn't trust this man to tell him the truth now; not after last night.

A door in front of him was opened and the sound of Sam's voice filled his ears; saying that they had roast last night and he played with cars but he didn't like it because Daddy and Dean weren't there with him and he knew that Daddy was in there with Sammy because he wouldn't have been rambling on like this unless Daddy was there.

And then his father turned to look at him and the only thing that could escape his lips was a soft, "Dear Lord," and he was up in an instant, wrapping his strong, comforting arms around Dean's small, bruised body and Sammy was rushing over as quickly as he could asking if the bad things had gotten Dean while they were separated.

The second time the state had gotten their hands on them Dean was ten. Dad had been home-schooling them since the last incident and personally Dean liked it better than public school. He didn't like being trapped in a place with so many people without being able to carry protection. His dad was out on a hunt and had given them enough money to get lunch. Apparently the cashier at McDonalds had called him in as a truant. With in the hour there was a knock on the door and Dean stupidly opened the door thinking that Dad had lost his keycard.

As soon as they had seen all the _occult _images on the wall they were ushered out of there as if a few more seconds would have corrupted their innocent mind's beyond repair.

They were kept away for a whole week this time until their father had convinced this states department that he was teaching the boys the stories that caused the reasons behind popular literature. They had been together for the week this time at least but the experience was worse than the previous one and each night was worse than the one before. He spent every waking moment dodging his punches and jumping in front of Sammy's then he spent his nights clenching the butcher knife he had snatched from the kitchen, eyes locked on the door just incase the _man _had any strange urges in the middle of the night.

By the time the Social worker came to pick them up Dean was exhausted. Their dad had wrapped one arm around Sam and the other around Dean. As soon as they reached the car Dean took the back seat over the front and laid down, not catching the worried glance his father sent him. Never once had he accepted the back seat without a fight and now he just wanted to lay down in it without even a word. Dean fell asleep to the sounds of hushed whispers as Sam explained what had all happened and the sight of Dad's comforting eyes glancing at him through the rear view mirror.

The End

A/N: So, I'm more than excited about this as I previously believed that my muse had drowned at sea in the toilet since I haven't had an idea for over six months and haven't been able to write unless I was pulling teeth out in just the same. So, I'm a bit rust but I hope you guys liked this somewhat.

Edited because apparently doesn't allow html anymore --


End file.
